


Eight Arms To Hold You

by shewasagaystripper



Series: Songs of Innocence and Experience [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 1970s, And a few saucy comments of course, Bickering, Comfort, Cuddling, Fluff, Insecurity, Kissing, M/M, Mentioning of sexual activities, Movie Night, Multi, Polyamory, Polygamy, Queen band - Freeform, Sleeping Together, This is just for the first chapter guys I'll update these regularly when new chapters are added, horror movie, mentions of violence and blood, relationship: established, sharing a flat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 18:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasagaystripper/pseuds/shewasagaystripper
Summary: This one's inspired by and in honour of the works of Sherry/BrooklynBugleBoy!





	Eight Arms To Hold You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrooklynBugleBoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrooklynBugleBoy/gifts).



> This one's inspired by and in honour of the works of Sherry/BrooklynBugleBoy!

‘You promise it won’t be too scary, right, Deaky?’

Whereas Brian and John had already settled down and made themselves comfortable on the sofa minutes ago, Roger was still standing next to the table with his back turned towards the TV Freddie was adjusting the volume of. Although he knew advertisements still filling in time, Roger did not dare look at the screen he knew would soon display a horror movie John had picked for them; one he remembered his classmates at university had watched at some point in time and having told him the mere memory of it never failed to make them queasy even years after having seen it. Horror movies had never appealed to Roger since he had first seen an adaption of Dracula at age twelve which had given him nightmares for weeks on end, and the fact that John had picked what seemed like the darkest, stormiest, gloomiest night Roger had seen in years was not exactly helping him settle for an H. H. Holmes slash Jack the Ripper crossover screen adaption. Even the knowledge of it being just a movie and that he’d have six arms to hold him if necessary, had so far not managed to soothe him.

‘I don’t think it’s too bad, no. I watched the first thirty minutes when I was like thirteen and it didn’t scare me,’ John said, which Roger found not to be too much of a comfort.

‘But nothing ever scares you,’ Roger brought in, which was something John found himself obligated to deny, be it not exactly in the fashion one would normally expect.

‘Brian’s bedhead in the morning scares me,’ John remarked. ‘As does your falsetto in _Seven Seas of Rhye_.’

‘Very funny, Deaks,’ Roger rolled his eyes, more to distract his partners from the glint of fear he knew for a fact was showing in his eyes than because he actually took offence at what John said. It didn’t work - or at least not on Brian, who could always read him like an open book. Sometimes it annoyed Roger that he could never keep his feelings to himself because Brian - if not all three of his lovers - would always immediately know how he felt with just one glance at his facial expression, but at the moment he didn’t mind. In fact, he was kind of relieved that Brian sensed his insecurity concerning whether or not he’d be able to see this movie without waking up in cold sweat for weeks after, especially when Brian offered him some much-needed support to get through.

‘It’ll be fine, love. Come here,’ Brian said as he patted himself on the knee as to indicate Roger could sit on his lap for the duration of the movie - which was met with resistance from Freddie the second the front man heard the offer.

‘Brian!’ Freddie called out the name of their partner indignantly, turning around from the TV he was trying to tune instead face the guitarist. ‘Why does Roger get to sit on your lap and I don’t?’

‘Because you know he needs it more at the moment,’ Brian answered plainly. His arms were reaching out towards Roger to let him know he was welcome regardless of what Freddie said, but Roger, caught up in Freddie’s objections, stayed right where he was.

‘But it’s my turn!’ Freddie brought in. He had gotten up from the floor and planted his hands firmly in his sides, displaying a bitchy air that Brian was sure would have managed to scare away anyone less sassy than their frontman. Unfortunately for Freddie, though, Roger could heighten himself to the same level of bitchiness, if not even higher than that.

‘But Brian already promised me now.’

‘I don’t care, it’s _my_ turn.’

‘Boys, boys…’ Brian tried to hush them, but to no avail; Freddie and Roger could be as stubborn when it came to dividing the attention of their partners as they had been when deciding whether or _not I’m in Love with my Car_ should be included in the newest album, and Brian hoped for all of his might that no one would end up locking themselves up in a cupboard moments before the movie they had waited all night for would start.

‘But I’m scared!’ Roger admitted for the sake of hammering home his argument. ‘And you always claim Brian for yourself during movie nights!’ Roger’s high pitched voice drew out Brian’s comforting one, and Brian gave up hope of being able to quiet them down with a solution.

‘I don’t! I just like sitting in someone’s lap while we sit and watch TV.’

‘Then why don’t you go and sit on Deaky’s lap?’ Roger asked.

‘Why don’t _you_ go and sit on Deaky’s lap?’ Freddie parroted, much to the despise of the drummer, who flung back at Freddie that he might want to come up with his own arguments next time.

The moment John’s name was introduced to the argument, the two outsiders of the quarrel turned to look at each other and waited for the other to say something. Neither of them did, though; they knew the best thing would be to just let Freddie and Roger figure things out on their own. Besides, when their eyes met, Brian saw a flicker of naughtiness shining through John’s formerly neutral expression, and he did not even have to hear his plan to know what John was thinking of.

‘Mind if I…’

‘By all means, go ahead,’ Brian said, chuckling to himself as John crawled over and settled himself in his lap, allowing Brian to envelop him with his long, slender arms. It took a handful of seconds after John had relocated himself for the quarrelling men to notice the change of scenery, and the argument swiftly shifted to include John, who was now forming a new obstacle to their access of Brian’s much-desired lap.

‘John!’ Roger mewled. ‘That’s not fair!’

‘Why not?’ John shrugged innocently. ‘While two dogs fight for a bone…’

Instead of finishing the phrase they found more than just a little inconvenient to rake up in the middle of their current argument, Freddie reminded all of them once again that it was his turn and demanded that John get up - something neither John nor Brian gave in to.

‘Boys, I really believe that when it comes to taking turns, it’s John who gets to sit on my lap. He hasn’t claimed his spot in _months_ ,’ Brian reminded them.

‘Because he doesn’t even like sitting in anyone’s lap! He’s just doing this to spite us,’ Roger whined.

‘I’m finding that I rather enjoy it, after all,’ John said lightly, which led to even more protest from the others, who were not prepared to fight yet someone else than each other in their quest to get to sit in Brian’s lap as often as possible. Because John wasn’t usually very keen on sitting in someone’s lap - it made him feel small and awkward, he always said when someone would invite him over - Roger and Freddie usually alternated what they called ‘the best seat in the house’. Today might make a change to this scheme, however, because as John properly settled in Brian’s lap, he remarked on how good it felt to sit in the prime spot.

‘This is pretty nice, actually,’ John remarked innocently, which earned him a kiss against his long dark brown locks of hair from Brian.

‘As long as you don’t make a habit out of it,’ Freddie grumbled, and Brian laughed. He didn’t mind a touch of good-natured jealousy, especially because he knew Freddie and Roger didn’t seriously mean it. They knew he all loved them equally, and that if he could, be would hold them all at the same time as the big cuddly family that they were. The only thing that prevented Brian from inviting everyone over for one big group hug session on the couch was the fact that the ominous piano movie that introduced the film they had planned to watch now filled the living room, and he was in a hurry to get everyone settled before they’d miss the first ten minutes because his boyfriends couldn’t stop quarrelling over a losing battle.

‘Come on, loveys. One of you at either side of me. There’s always been enough of me to share up to this moment and I’m sure that won’t change now.’

Freddie was the first to give in and settle at the left side of Brian, snuggling against his side and securing the arm Brian had wrapped around him with his hand, as if he feared Brian would take it away if he did not firmly keep it in place. Roger remained hesitant, but not so much because he disagreed with the solution Brian had posed, but because he really did not know if it would be a good idea to sit down and watch this particular horror movie.’

‘John, _promise_ me the movie isn’t too bad,’ Roger ordered, but it was the weakest sounding command the group had ever heard, certainly when it came from their drummer.

‘I can’t promise it, honey, it’s been a long while since I’ve seen it and when I did, I only saw the first part of it before my mum sent me to bed,’ John chuckled. ‘Besides, I don’t know how easily you’re scared,’ John said.

‘He screamed when a moth landed on his arm in the studio last week,’ Freddie reminded the group of a moment Roger certainly didn’t count among his proudest. John, luckily for Roger, ignored Freddie’s derogatory comment and smoothed out the surface of the couch they’d saved for Roger.

‘But I’ll hold your hand, and you can squeeze it when you’re scared.’

John was glad that this was exactly what Roger seemed to need before he gave in and hopped onto the couch, but he soon came to regret his offer when no more than three minutes into the movie, Roger had clutched onto not only his hand but also his entire lower arm, which by now was covered with nail markings Roger had left there when a jump scare on screen made the drummer squeal louder than he had done that time Freddie and he had been in the shower when a spider had crept up on them. The first images of people being brutally ridded of their intestines were soon displayed on the screen, and the footage of a young medical student running for her life through the halls of an old, abandoned hospital didn’t promise anything positive to the viewers either. Tension built up quickly when footsteps other than her own were audible in the hallway; the door she tried to open was of course locked, which they all knew was bad news. That a creature so abhorrent-looking that it hardly resembled a human person anymore would burst through the door and slit not only her throat but her entire torso in half with the quickness and expertise of a trained ninja, was something neither of them had expected, though, and caused not just Roger but Freddie just as well to emit a squeal.

‘Fuck, _John_! What kind of shit is this!’ Roger cried out, clinging tighter to the arm of his boyfriend.

‘I, uh… Don’t remember it to be this bad,’ John admitted. ‘Does anyone have the TV guide?’

‘Me, but you’re not getting it now,’ Freddie - who was hiding his face behind it and incidentally peered over it to see if the coast was clear again - told John, and John did not push him to give up his shield when the victim of the ninja-like creature tied the girl to a ceiling light with the bloody bowels he had just removed from her abdomen.

‘This is so gross- who even… who even _thinks_ of this?’ Freddie pondered out loud.

‘It’s okay, it’s only a movie,’ said Brian, who simultaneously allowed Roger to bury his face against his shoulder and pressed a kiss against his hair. He was glad that everyone was so focussed on the movie (either watching it intently like John or making work of looking away from it like Freddie and Roger) that they did not have the time to glance up at him, because Brian had to admit that he felt a bit faint - and the current image of a mixture of black blood and vomit spilling from the mouth of the corpse now hanging from the ceiling did not make things any better. They held out for a little while longer, but Brian had a feeling that sooner or later one of them was going to quit. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Roger who gave in first; it was Freddie, who, at the sight of someone’s internal organs displayed as one big pulpy mass on the forest ground about fifteen minutes into the movie, said something that left Brian no other choice than to send him off.

‘I’m- I feel like I’m gonna be sick,’ Freddie announced, and Brian glanced sideways to the frontman to see that he indeed looked a little pale, especially for Freddie’s standards.

‘Go to the kitchen and have a glass of water, lovey,’ Brian advised. ‘And take Roger with you, if you will,’ he added, carefully removing the drummer who had nestled himself against his side and handing him over to the care of Freddie, who dragged the drummer behind him as he made his way to the kitchen, only just detracting him from a battle axe scene that even managed to make Brian face away and wonder if this really was the ‘cosy horror movie they could all watch together’ he had signed up for.

‘Deaky, honey, what on _earth_ are we watching?’ Brian eventually asked when slaughter continued to dominate the screen and no plot whatsoever had been detected by him at any rate.

‘Some pretty solid horror scenes, I’d say,’ the bassist said, and Brian glanced into his direction to find his partner focussing on the screen across the room with what seemed like a bit of a grin plastered on his face. Freddie and Roger appeared in the door opening multiple times, but they made their way back into the kitchen each time before managing to settle down with their boyfriends again. Brian intended on warning them whenever a bloody scene occurred, but there was no need - with all the jump scares going on, the other half of the band could tell by his expression that there was no opportunity for them to return to the sofa and pick up the movie without spending the rest of the week waking up in cold sweat in the middle of the night.

Feeling bad for them, Brian asked John if there was any chance of the film getting better at any point in time, but his partner’s absent shake of the head, combined with the ongoing onslaught of innocent civilians on the screen before him, told him there were no chances of Freddie and Roger returning anywhere soon. The boys remained in the kitchen, but started getting fed up with standing at the side line rather quickly. Brian could hardly blame them - there was no fun in looking at other people mentally wrestling themselves through a horror movie. He was therefore not surprised when during the break, when Freddie deemed it safe enough to enter the room again, he announced their leave.

‘Darlings, this is really not my cup of tea, and nor is it Roger’s. You have fun watching it, but we’re going upstairs,’ Freddie announced in a stern voice that told Brian there was no use arguing with them. Even John seemed to understand that he wouldn’t get a word in edgeways, and gestured for Freddie to come over and give him a goodnight kiss.

‘Goodnight, honey. I hope we didn’t scare Roger too badly,’ John said after Freddie had ritually pressed a kiss against both of his and Brian’s cheeks.

‘I’m afraid you did. He doesn’t even dare come in here during the break anymore,’ Freddie said with a sigh into the direction of the room behind which walls Brian imagined Roger had curled himself up into a ball and as waiting for Freddie to return. He felt guilty to the pit of his stomach, even though he knew it wasn’t his fault; he never would have picked a movie like this, and if he had, he would have zapped to another channel the moment it would have turned out to be horrendous like this. John, however, seemed rather keen on watching it, and being the only one now left to watch it with him, Brian could not get himself to quit on him too. Roger had Freddie to keep him company; he’d be here with John to make most out of the movie night John had looked forwards to so much. It was only fair this way.

‘Take Roger to bed with you, Fred. I’m afraid he won’t close an eye if you leave him alone until John shows up, which might be a while,’ Brian advised, an idea which was accepted with a powerful nod, even though it messed up their schedule once again. They had found out long ago that whilst sleeping with all four of them was cosiest, it was not exactly beneficial to their aim of getting enough rest to be able to around their days peacefully - especially not with Brian always being latest to lie down at night, Freddie being an early bird, Roger waking up and leaving to get himself a glass of water or go to the toilet multiple times a night, and John being quite an infamous snorer. They had decided early on that it would be better to rotate between each other weekly, to make sure all of them got an equal amount of time with each other. This week for example, which has started a few days before, Freddie and Brian were staying in the master bedroom, with John and Roger sleeping in the somewhat smaller bedroom across the hallway. However, this theoretically strict division in practice did not always end up being followed quite as precisely in everyday life, where the tired rhythm section could count on being carried to bed by Brian, and where the boys who had been appointed to the smaller bedroom for the week somehow always ended up scurrying through the cold, dark hallway to exchange their bed with that in the master bedroom. This was not something they had intended to happen when they’d purchased a king sized bed to furnish the master bedroom with and push the old bed into the other room, but looking back at it - what else had they expected?

‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ Freddie said, after which he turned on his heel and made his way over to the kitchen. It wasn’t much later that Brian heard footsteps ascending the stairs, the boiler starting up when they opened the tap, and not much later, a door being closed.

‘I bet you ten bucks they stole the master bedroom,’ John interrupted the quiet tension that clung to every corner of the room now that the protagonist of the movie was walking through a spookily lit forest at midnight, unaware of whatever terror Brian was sure would overcome her sooner or later. Brian chuckled - it wouldn’t matter much to him, since Freddie and him had been assigned to the smaller room that week. But for John, who had finally escaped the less desirable room after three weeks, it did make a difference to him where the others settled down for the night.

‘That would be easy money for you if I’d go with that bet,’ Brian turned him down. ‘Besides, we already put all of our wages together anyway. It’s not as if you’d get anything out of it,’ he said, but he soon realised was not entirely the truth. Sure, they put all their money together and collectively paid rent, gas and light, groceries, and whatever more they needed, but their disposable income was not usually divided equally between the four of them because some of them tended to spend a lot more on hobbies than others. Big expenditures they would always discuss with everyone, but there were no rules for smaller things, which in practice led to Freddie and Roger spending the largest share of their joint income, then John, and Brian coming in as a distant four. Freddie could easily spend a fortune on clothes, shoes, and accessories, and Roger, though spending a little less on his appearance, would throw the rest of the money into cigarettes, alcohol, and partying. John tended to be more modest, but his _Lord of the Rings, Star Wars,_ and _Doctor Who_ obsession was also taking its toll on the household budget. Brian had not thought it necessary for the bassist to buy all the books of J. R. R. Tolkien once again in special edition version per se, but if it made John happy, then what was there left for Brian to complain about? This really was his attitude towards all of his lovers’ big spending patterns; he sometimes wished they would stick to their budget so they could save money in case they needed it for car reparations or whatever would come their way, but at the end of the day, when Freddie would strut around the living room on his new platform heels, John would be curled up at Brian’s side reading his newly acquired copy of a book he’d already read a hundred times before, and Roger would be distributing overly strong cocktails he’d just fabricated, what was there for Brian to complain about? What in the world was there for him to complain about when all of his partners were happy and well and right there at his side?

John had obviously not noticed the flaw in Brian’s reasoning concerning the equal distribution of their disposable income, or had pushed it aside when he’d come up with a better prize for the bet he had suggested. ‘Let’s bet for a blowjob, then,’ John proposed, causing Brian to roll his eyes.

‘As if you’re not getting enough of those with three partners.’

‘Are you implying there’s such a thing as receiving enough blowjobs?’ John asked, which gave Brian the perfect opportunity to thro something clever back at him.

‘Perhaps there is. I suggest you’d try it out on me, and I’ll let you know when it’s been too much.’

‘Tease,’ John said and gave a poke against the ribcage he soon after settled against when the film resumed itself. It wasn’t long before mauled corpses and gory wounds filled the screen again, and whereas John seemed more absorbed in the movie than ever before, Brian found himself growing more and more uncomfortable facing the repulsive footage. It was probably a good idea Freddie and Roger had bailed out on the movie, because Brian was rather sure Freddie would have overpowered the sound of axes and chainsaws with his own squealing, and Roger would not have been able to sleep for days if he’d laid eyes on these scenes.

Brian held out for a little longer, but the idea of the other half of the group lying in bed clutched closely to each other and shivering all over never left him - and not only that, he felt himself growing a little queasy deep in the pit of his stomach as well. During a minutes long tensed scene of the protagonist hiding around a wall while a squad of murderous axe carriers slowly drew closer, Brian eventually decided he had seen enough, and abruptly stood up from the sofa.

‘I’m gonna check on the boys,’ Brian announced to John, who looked at him with a sense of indignation as if Brian had just insulted his entire blood line.

‘But what about the movie? It’s just starting to get exciting!’

‘I’m sure it will be,’ Brian said, trying hard to oppress the dryness in his voice. ‘But I just want to make sure they’re okay. I’ll be back in a moment.’

Leaving John behind with a kiss on the crown of his hair, Brian stumbled out of the living room and towards the kitchen. He gave himself a second to fetch a glass of water and down it all at once while pushing the footage of all he’d just been confronted with out of his head, and then ascended the stairs carefully, not wanting to wake Freddie and Roger in case they’d already fallen asleep.

It did not surprise Brian, however, that they hadn’t; the dim light shining from the window above the door of the master bedroom told him they hadn’t even attempted to yet. He strode over to that side of the hallway, delicately knocked on the door, and when he thought he’d heard some sort of agreement for him to come in, he opened the door and tiptoed inside the room.

‘How is everyone here?’ Brian whispered while nearing the bed on which Freddie and Roger were lying so close that they were lying on top of each other rather than next to each other. Roger’s face was buried in the cavity between Freddie’s neck and shoulder, and Brian could tell through the fabric of their duvet that Freddie had thrown a leg over Roger’s to give him the sense of closeness he probably longed for now more than ever.

‘Fine as long as the lights are on and the door is closed,’ Freddie mumbled, which earned him a smile and a loving pat on his lower leg from Brian, who sat down on the edge of the bed to look at his lovers for a moment. He felt bad for them, truly; he disliked gory horror movies as much as the next person, but Freddie and Roger had been outright terrified by them, and probably would not be able to sleep in peace for at least the upcoming three days. He made a mental note to himself to have a word about it with John when he went downstairs again. However, going back to join John again was made a bit more complicated than he’d anticipated when Freddie made a request Brian couldn’t believe he had not seen coming the second he’d walked into the bedroom.

‘Will you come lie here with us?’ Freddie’s eyes opened and he looked up at Brian with a helpless expression that made it nearly impossible for Brian to reject him.

‘I promised Deaky I’d go back there and join him,’ Brian ended up saying after having thought for a few seconds, which he realised himself soon enough was neither a yes nor a no. Freddie must have realised this, too, for he  didn’t give up quite yet - although Brian was sure he also would have given it another shot even if he would have been given a straight-up ‘no’ from him.

‘Please?’ he asked, voice close to a mewl by now.

‘Of course. For just a moment,’ Brian gave in, knowing that just the small, self-satisfied smile on Freddie’s lips was worth lingering around for just a little longer. He’d go back to John in just a few minutes, but it seemed to him that Freddie and Roger - the latter of which he would swear he could see trembling beneath the covers - needed his presence more than their bassist anyway right then.

‘No, on my side,’ Freddie objected when Brian went to lie down on the side of the bed on which he had sat down a moment before, which happened to be Roger’s. ‘Roger’s already got me to hold him. I need you to hold me,’ Freddie ordered. Normally Brian was not one to be bossed around, but the neediness in his lover’s voice made it impossible for him to feel anything else besides amusement.

‘Aye aye, captain,’ Brian said as he shuffled off the bed and moved over to climb on top of it again at Freddie’s side of the mattress.

‘Captain? You’re supposed to refer to me as _your majesty_ ,’ Freddie informed him while Brian settled behind him and draped a lazy arm around his waist.

Brian snorted. ‘The only member of royalty you could ever be is a _pillow prince_.’

‘Slander and libel!’ Freddie protested dramatically, but before Brian could even come up with evidence for his case, he received help from an unexpected source when a sleepy Roger joined in on their discussion of Freddie’s proper titles.

‘You literally refused to blow John last night because you were too tired but still expected him to suck you off,’ Roger reminded Freddie, who huffed out a half-bemused, half-indignant laugh.

‘Yes, and just the other week you fell asleep after you’d gotten your kicks and left Brian on the edge. _Pretended_ to fall asleep, to make things worse!’ Freddie threw back at him.

‘The both of you are terribly lazy in bed,’ Brian sighed. ‘Sometimes I wonder how John and I hold out with you two.’

‘Because we’re saving our energy for other important acts!’ Freddie said in an attempt to save his case.

‘Such as?’

‘Such as kissing.’ Before Brian could even tell Freddie to prove this to him, he already felt the arm he had draped over Freddie’s hip being taken between the frontman’s slender fingers and brought closer to his face Here it was pressed against his mouth and soft, lazy kisses were placed all over his lower arm, wrist, and hands. Brian smiled softly and spooned closer against Freddie’s back, his eyes fluttering close as nothing else but the soft, half-kissing, half-sucking noises of Freddie’s lips against his skin kept him awake in the comfortably warm bed he had tumbled into. He was sure he could have fallen asleep right here, right then, if it had not been for the fact that a stern voice called out to the three of them just when Freddie had moved on to turn Brian’s hand around to have the palm facing upwards for a new series of kisses on each fingertip.

‘This is a _great_ movie night I’m having downstairs.’

Brian tiredly opened one eye and looked at the direction from which the sound seemed to have emerged. Not that he needed to - the knowledge of him lying in bed with Freddie and Roger and having left John on his own in front of the TV was all he needed to deduct that it could have been no one else than their bassist who could have come after them. When Freddie murmured something unintelligible and Roger did not react in any either visible or audible way, Brian sighed and carefully started detaching himself from Freddie’s body.

‘Sorry, Deaks. I’m coming right over.’ A second hum from Freddie followed, this time decidedly more displeased sounding than the previous one, but the frontman seemed to give up on protesting rather quickly when Brian stroke his side and promised he’d be back. After this, Brian begrudgingly pushed himself up on his elbows, ran a hand through tousled curls, and stumbled off the bed to follow John into the hallway. Internally, he was mentally preparing to go back downstairs again and face whatever horror scenes BBC3 had left in store for them - but just as he placed his hand on the handrail and his right foot on the first step of the stairs, it turned out he did not have to.

‘You don’t really want to get back in there, do you?’

Brian turned around to see John looking at him in the corridor. He had a soft, inviting smile on his lips - one that invited Brian to tell his partner the truth.

‘Not really, no, if you want the honest answer,’ he replied in a mumble. He was a bit ashamed of his own answer. He felt guilty for letting John down after the other two had also already given up, but John did not seem to plan on holding it against him.

‘That’s okay,’ the bassist shrugged. ‘We can just get undressed, join the boys, and call it a night,’ he proposed with a small smile - one that showed Brian that he did not seem to mind too much. Did not seem to mind at _all_ , Brian noticed; which was remarkable at the very least.

‘Don’t you want to go down there and finish the movie?’ he asked as he followed John to the bathroom, of which he just disappeared behind the door. Remaining at the door, he stood and watched John unbutton his shirt in the reflection of the life-sized mirror behind the sink.

‘Nah, not really,’ John admitted, letting the shirt dangle on his fingertip before he discarded it to the laundry basket next to the bathtub.

‘Not really?’ Brian repeated mildly indignantly. ‘You were the one who insisted we should watch it!’

‘I already know how it ends,’ John explained himself. ‘In the final scenes, when the protagonist is once again locked up in that abandoned hospital we also saw at the beginning of the movie, she overcomes her fears for the demons that follow her and yells at them to kill her if they dare. They appear, they fight for a way too long time, she performs an exorcism of some sort, which fails at first, and just as they’re halfway through pinning her down and cutting her in half, she finds this spell to cast the back into hell. Or wherever they came from. Then that one Alex guy finds her, he ties off her wounds because apparently he’s a doctor, they kiss, and then it skips to their wedding scene.’

Blinking silently at John’s sloppy description of the ending of the movie, Brian tried to make sense out of all he was being told. What kind of lame ending to a horror movie was this, and more importantly, how did John know all of this if he’d only watched the first half an hour of the film?

‘How do you-you already knew the plot?’ Brian asked.

‘Of course I did. I’ve seen this movie time and time again.’

‘You said you’d only watched the first thirty minutes!’ Brian reminded him.

‘I said I watched the first thirty minutes when I was thirteen. You guys never asked me if I ever finished it later, which I did.’ There was a self-satisfied smile playing around the corners of John’s lips as he squirted a line of toothpaste onto his toothbrush, neither blinking nor facing Brian’s indignant expression as he wet the brush with tap water.

‘But why did you make us watch it if you knew we’d hate it?’ Brian asked, still having no idea what his partner’s motivation had been for pulling them through the most awful movie he’d seen in years.

‘Because I knew you all would hate it and need someone to hold on to for the upcoming three days,’ John said. Then, when Brian looked like he wanted to ask why on earth he would aim for a goal like this, he added in a completely serious yet somewhat softer, more vulnerable voice: ‘I missed sleeping all together in one bedroom.’

‘Deaks!’ Brian called out, but he could impossibly be mad at him. He knew he hardly could have been angry if John had set up this movie just for the laugh of it, let alone now that such a sweet motivation underlay his actions. Moving into the bathroom and looking at John’s eyes through the mirror’s reflection, Brian said: ‘You know you could have just told us if you wanted that.’

‘I know,’ John sighed for a bit, but the sly grin on his face was soon back when he added: ‘But this seemed more fun to me.’

_Well, maybe he could be just a little mad at him, now that he thought about it._ ‘You’re insufferable, Deacon,’ Brian rolled his eyes. ‘Well then, you go downstairs and switch off the TV, because I’m not going back in there and see yet someone else getting slaughtered.’

‘Not so many people will get slaughtered anymore at this point of the movie,’ John said matter-of-factly. ‘Apart from that one young mother of two who’s sliced in half alive by the booby trap someone laid out in the fores-’

‘Enough!’ Brian cut John off loudly enough to start he boys in the room next to the bathroom, or at least to have them hear his command, before John could be given the chance to expand on the movie any longer. ‘One more word and I’m going to slice _you_ in half.’

‘You wouldn’t,’ John said. He sounded a bit too confident about his own statement, so Brian, while applying toothpaste to his own toothbrush, cocked an eyebrow at him.

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because if you’d slice me in half, you’d have no one else to eat you out when Freddie and Roger fall asleep after two minutes of pounding.’

_Touché._ Brian struggled to come up with a valid answer for a moment, but eventually decided to join in on John’s call-out to their other partners. ‘We should really stop letting them get their guts before they’ve done anything to please us.’

‘I know. But they look so pretty and inviting when they lie there in a tangle of sheets in their lacy underwear only,’ John sighed, before the head of the toothbrush slipped between his lips.

‘I’ll make a public service announcement tomorrow morning, saying that starting that moment, no other garments save jute bags will be allowed in the bedroom.’

‘Hmm- you might want to add wooden cwogs to the wist if you want to kill the mood,’ John lisped through a mouth full of toothpaste foam, which he then spat into the sink.

‘John!’ Brian reproved him, which unfortunately only made things worse for him when John added onto his previous statement.  

‘You’re right. The pwastic ones are even uglier.’

Feeling that protesting would only make things worse, Brian asked: ‘Have I not gone through enough for today?’ His boyfriend smiled a toothpasty smile at him and leant over to press his lips against Brian’s cheek, leaving a trail of white foam behind.

‘You haven’t had half of it yet,’ John threatened, before rinsing his mouth and putting the brush back into the mug. Turning on his heel, he said: ‘I’ll go turn off the TV. See you in a bit.’

Brian gave him a quick wave of the hand before he splashed some water on his toothbrush and stared cleaning his teeth. While brushing back and forth, he looked at his own appearance in the mirror. His hair was tousled and there was a weird red spot next to his upper lip, of which he first thought was a food residue of some kind but which only grew redder when he rubbed over it with his sleeve, which caused him to believe it was some skin impurity he had hoped would no longer bother him after puberty. Unfortunately they still popped up every now and then; and though Brian normally wasn’t one to use makeup, he would always secretly reach for that one bottle of liquid foundation Freddie had bought ages ago but which had been a shade too light for his skin - which was exactly the item he extracted from the bathroom cupboard right there at that moment.  He didn’t do this because he was vain, or because it made him feel prettier. He had tried to convince himself that he preferred covering up skin irregularities because they made him insecure, but he knew that deep inside, none of these were the truth. The real reason why he would plaster a layer of foundation across his face in cases like these as because he did not want to show any signs of imperfection to his partners out of fear what they might think.

And he knew that out of all reasons he could have for not wanting to show his imperfect skin, this was the stupidest one out there. Freddie, Roger, and John never would think anything of a small blemish; they probably would not even notice if it would be right in the middle of his forehead, and if they did, they would not care, let alone mention it. It did not matter to them, whether his skin was not perfectly even like that of a model, or whether his teeth were a bit crooked, or whether his hair looked like a straight-up nightmare whenever he woke up. In their eyes he was perfect, with all of his imperfections. That one spot - it had presumably already been there when John had kissed him mere minutes ago. It had been the cheek he had pressed into Freddie’s tresses when his partner had asked him to lie next to him and cuddle him ten minutes ago. It had been the cheek Roger had found comfort against when the movie they’d watched together an hour ago had gotten the best of him. Brian might not be too happy with himself at times, but he knew his boyfriends loved every part of him, kissed, cuddled, stroked, and cherished every inch of him - so what reason had he, really, to either be insecure of unhappy about?

Footsteps were audible on the stairs, across the hallway, and a door was opened. Brian only just managed to put the cover stick under the palm of his hand when John peeked his head through the opening of the door to announce his return.

‘Bri? I’m going to bed. Are you coming?’

‘I’ll be there in a second, love.’ The door closed behind him, and Brian looked shamefully at he makeup item under his hand. He didn’t need it; he would not apply it because it made him feel good, and he knew that none of his partners would appreciate him wearing it, either. On the contrary, he was quite convinced that all three of them would want nothing more than for him to feel comfortable in his own skin. The decision was easily made then; the cover stick was put back into its place in the cupboard, a handful of water was splashed into his face to help the skin recover on its own, and the light was shut off when Brian exchanged the bathroom for the master bedroom.

Upon entering the bedroom for the second time that night, he found a serious rearrangement of positions and roles taking place. Whereas before and after he’d left the couple, Freddie’s arms had been wrapped tightly around the drummer’s motionless frame, Roger now seemed wide awake and was actively engaged in finding a new place to lie in. John was sitting up straight against the back wall with two pillows placed over his lap, and Freddie was nowhere to be found.  

‘And this is…?’ Brian asked in an attempt to receive an explanation of whatever they were doing, which he received from Freddie as the frontman pushed past him through the doorway with a pillow from the other bedroom in his hands.

‘This is us claiming John for tonight. He’s agreed to watch over us - which is the _least_ he can do for us after having dragged us through that Godawful movie,’ Freddie chided their partner, who grinned lazily as he took the newly acquired pillow from Freddie’s hands and propped it behind his back. It was only when Freddie hopped onto the bed and joined Roger by lying his head down on the pillows splayed across John’s legs that Brian realised this was how they were planning to spend the rest of the night.

‘You sure you’ll last all night like that?’ Brian cocked an eyebrow at John, who placed his one hand on Freddie’s upper back and the other on the cheek Roger had not buried too deeply into the pillow for him to touch.

‘We’ll see,’ John chuckled, tugging the duvet a bit further over Freddie’s bare chest. The frontman groaned something unintelligibly at the loss of touch to his back, but the hand was soon recovered to its previous destination. ‘Are you coming, too?’ John asked Brian, who nodded and slipped beneath the covers - this time on Roger’s side of the bed. He had a feeling that their drummer was most prone to waking up in the middle of the time following the movie scenes à la Jack Ripper, and that Roger would definitely value waking up with Brian’s arms around him most out of all three of them in the current situation. Now, however, he would not notice; he seemed vast asleep, and Freddie appeared to be on the verge of following his example.

When after a minute or so the sound of Freddie’s soft snoring confirmed that he had indeed drifted off, Brian carefully turned around to switch off the last remaining light on the nightstand, leaving only a small strip of light from the hallway to spread a dim glow across the room. This was, however, enough for Brian to detect the look of slight discomfort on John’s face as the younger man carefully tried to shift his left leg away from what Brian supposed was Roger’s jutting hipbone.

‘Why, that doesn’t look all too comfortable,’ Brian remarked when John’s leg moving about caused Roger to half roll over next to him. 

‘It’s not half bad,’ John said in that neutral yet satisfied voice that only he could produce.

‘It’s not as if you’d have a right to complain if it was. You said this was what you wanted,’ Brian told John, who grinned in response.

‘It is exactly what I wanted,’ he said, looking down to Freddie to pat his back when a somewhat troubled sounding noise escaped his boyfriend’s throat in his sleep. ‘It’s perfect. Apart from the fact that I can’t hold you, too.’

‘That’s a bit of a shame, yes,’ Brian agreed. Of course he did not really mind, but he also would not have said no to getting to hold John that night. Both of them had been assigned with a different partner than each other to spend the nights with that week, and although Brian definitely adored getting to spend some time with Freddie that week, he sometimes missed those days when they all gathered in one bedroom at night as a rule, and not as an exception like this night.

‘No worries. We’ll just put on another horror movie tomorrow and then it’ll be your turn,’ John told him, bringing Brian back to the present.

Brian grimaced, but then discovered he could easily use this statement to tease John. ‘I’d like to have that black on white for in the morning, when you’ve sat in this position for eight hours in a row.’

‘You doubt I’m not strong enough to put up with that?’ John asked quasi-indignantly.

‘Not doubt,’ Brian corrected himself. ‘I just don’t think you’d enjoy two broken nights in a row.’

‘Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it for you,’ John said. ‘I’d spend ten broken nights in a row for any of you if necessary. It doesn’t even have to be necessary; I’d do it if it would just make you feel a little better. I’d do anything to make you guys feel better.’ John concluded his speech with a shrug as if to discard its unexpectedly deep message, but it still made Brian’s heart glow with pride and gratitude. Lying in bed with the three men he loved most in his life, spooned close against each other and finding comfort in the warmth of each other bodies, was all he ever could have wished for - and it were moments like these that made him appreciate the precious relationship between the four of them most.

‘I’d do anything for you and the boys, too,’ Brian returned the loving remark. Then, carefully retracting his arm from Roger’s torso and using it to prop himself up on the mattress below him. The indent in the soft foam caused Roger’s body to roll back slightly, but Brian had other things in mind at the moment. ‘Come here and kiss me.’

John, although the glint in his eyes confirmed that he was in favour of the unusually direct sign of appreciation from Brian’s side, chuckled and answered: ‘That’s easier said than done.’

‘You just said you’d do anything for me!’ Brian said, forgetting to mind his voice for a moment. A furrow formed between Freddie’s eyebrows, and John was quick to stroke his back before he could wake up and react.

‘Of course I would,’ John said, after which he leant over towards Brian. Brian in turned craned his neck, and with a bit more stretching and pulling, they eventually managed to press their lips together for a short yet sweet kiss that had to be limited to a mere second, to prevent Brian losing his balance and landing right on top of Roger.

‘You’re so perfect,’ Brian said. ‘All that’s missing is just another pair of arms so you can hold me too.’

‘Between the four of us there’ll always be eight arms to hold you,’ John said - probably in an attempt to be romantic and deep, but Brian had soon done the maths on his statement and had a thing or two to say about the equation.

‘Eight arms between three partners? Either one of you is an octopus or whatever, or you’re suggest I hold myself too. Which seems a bit pathetic if you ask me,’ Brian said.

John responded sooner than expected and with more flair than he was often given credit for having. ‘I don’t see what’s wrong with a little self-appreciation.’

‘Nothing,’ Brian smiled. ‘Just that I won’t need any when there’s the three of you loving me.’

‘Of course you’ll always have us to hold you,’ John said. ‘But I think loving and appreciating yourself is important too. And of course eight arms are better than six.’

‘Yes, you and your eight arms… I’m starting to think that you might want to use those eight arms for other purposes than simply being held,’ Brian murmured.

‘I would _never_ ,’ John grinned, but his smile really said it all.

‘What did you just say earlier tonight? One can never get too many blowjobs?’ Brian reminded him.

‘Well, let me know when you’ve found a way to give blowjobs with your arms,’ John said.

‘I’ll wake you up if I think of a way tonight,’ the guitarist promised.

‘Incredibly wishful of you to assume I’ll catch any sleep tonight, sitting upright like this,’ John reminded him. ‘But I’ll give it a shot nevertheless. Sweet dreams, honey.’

‘You too, Deaks,’ Brian said, allowing John to pat his hair as he snuggled closer into the pillow. The hand however soon withdrew and was placed on Roger’s face to cup his cheek instead, as it had done before and which it should probably continue doing to if they wanted the drummer, who was already showing signs of movement in his sleep, in his state of unconsciousness.

Brian didn’t mind that John was putting his focus on Freddie and Roger instead of on him. Even though there now was no one to physically hold him through this night, Brian felt like mentally, he was being enveloped by the same amount of love as the six arms of his lovers could contain - or maybe even the eight arms John had suggested, if he included the self-love their bassist had insisted he should not forget about.

And that was all that mattered.

 


End file.
